A Planeswalker's Recovery
by Spades27
Summary: A traumatized Planeswalker seeks to recover from his experiences on Zendikar and Innistrad by taking up a teaching position at the quietly saccharine Alfea Academy. Naturally, it doesn't last long. Fair warning, this story involves violence, swearing, substance abuse, PTSD, and cheesy Saturday morning cartoon villains.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone, long time no see. Now, for those of you who follow me, you're probably pretty surprised to see an update again after... it's been years, hasn't it? The reason I let my stories die is because, well, I felt that they were uninspired and poorly written. In the meantime, I've been honing my craft over at Spacebattles and testing to see which 'fics people actually liked, and which ones people didn't give two shits about, so that I could bring you the best ones (or at least the most _popular_ ones).

 **A Planeswalker's Recovery**

As I sat behind my shiny wooden desk in the disgustingly saccharine Alfea academy, I reflected on how I'd wound up here. Hah. "Take a break," Jace had said. "You could use a chance to recover" he'd said. Shit, even Arlinn Kord had recommended I take some time to get my head on straight, and she barely deigned to acknowledge my existence most days.

Unbidden, memories rushed to the surface of my mind, and my hands started to shake. For a moment I was back on Zendikar, neophyte walker staring up at the massive bulk of Kozilek as the monstrosity erupted from the dying plane's calcified surface while Ulamog ripped free of the last remnants of our failed hedron trap. Back in the ruins of Sea Gate as reality was rent asunder beneath the weight of the Eldrazi's presence. I'd hit my stride, so to speak, in that infinite moment as spatial distortions wracked our forces and time turned to putty. As Ob Nixilis crushed Jace, Gideon, and Nissa beneath his demonic boot heel. I'd made it through the ordeal with vastly deeper understanding of how truly ephemeral and fragile time and space really were, and I'd only learned more from Kozilek's spawn, turning their own tricks against them. It... hadn't been particularly good for my sanity, but it had certainly helped our forces and had gotten me an invitation to be part of the Gatewatch. My oath had even become my mantra during the events that followed on Innistrad. I blinked my eyes and found myself back on the desolate calcified ground of Zendikar, surrounded by the dust and echoes of the Eldrazi's passing after Chandra Nalaar and Nissa Revane had killed the two eldritch beings.

"For the sake of the future and the hope for a brighter tomorrow, I will keep watch." Those had been my words, my solemn vow. In the wake of Kozilek's resurgence, I'd seen countless potential futures, and so _very_ few of them had been nice ones. I'd gained a faint insight into the myriad calamities that threatened our disturbingly fragile multiverse. Phyrexia, Bolas, Emrakul, and uncountable others, all competing to ruin entire planes.

So, naturally I'd followed Jace to Innistrad. I'd still wanted a bit of a support net to get used to my powers and none of the others had really had the time or alignment to help. I was mostly blue and red aligned, which probably explained why I was so well suited for inherent complexity and chaos involved in mucking about with space and time. So, I'd followed Jace to Innistrad, and _that_ had really done a number on me. On the both of us, to be honest. I was pretty sure the only reason I'd made it through the clusterfuck in anything resembling a functional mental state was because my sanity had already been a little fluid. Hah, and I'd never thought I'd thank Kozilek for anything. I shuddered and clamped my hands on the desk as I unwillingly recalled the cyptoliths' psyche shattering patterns of mana, the eldritch corrupting moon, and the far more mundane horrors so endemic to a plane that redefined gothic horror.

I focused on my breathing, on the pleasant aromas and soothing sounds of Althea Academy, trying to drive away the creeping horrors that rested in my mind. There was power in madness, to be sure, but I couldn't afford to have an episode a mere ten minutes before I was supposed to teach a class on Applied Magic. I'd actually gotten this position purely by accident, having arrived here in the middle of a broom closet and then stumbling into the room where Faragonda was conducting interviews for the position. Apparently there'd been some troubles last semester and the headmistress had wanted to expand the curriculum to include a more practical side. She'd asked me for a practical demonstration of my power, and I'd erased her desk from reality. I chuckled as I remembered the look on her face.

The classroom doors burst open and a veritable horde of gaudily dressed and over glittered teenage girls meandered into the room, all babbling away with out a care in the world. Why was I here again? Right, okay, _relax_ , I could do this. I'd certainly survived far worse.

"Alright, listen up! My name is Ryan, and welcome to Aplied Magical Studies," I belted out, and the excited talking mostly cut off as everyone turned their heads towards me. Well, mostly everyone.

"We'll be getting started right away, so... you, blondie in the back, yes, you! What's your name?" I called out to one girl who was still talking.

"Stella, Professor Ryan," she answered dutifully, looking a bit guilty about having been caught.

"Well, Stella, tell me, did you check your desk for contact poisons before you sat down?" I asked. I'd placed a paralytic on all of the desks in preparation for the first lesson. Innistrad had taught me that paranoia saved lives, and that skaaberen were entirely too clever when it came to slipping all manner of awful elixirs into the most unexpected of places. The bunch of fucking Frankensteins.

"Ummm, no?" the pretty blonde girl replied uncertainly.

"Did _any_ of you?" I asked the class in general, only to receive concerned looks and and various responses to the negative.

"Should we have?" an auburn haired girl sitting next to Stella asked nervously.

"If you have to ask..." I let the sentence trail off as their eyes widened in shock and a few of them started to move. The key word being _started_ , of course, since that was the moment the contact paralytic took effect. It was only a mild one, which would inhibit muscular control and cause an uncomfortable pins and needles sensation, but enough to offer an excellent object lesson.

"Welp, looks like the poison just took effect. Paranoia is your friend girls, and _trust_ me when I tell you that it _will_ save your life. Today's lesson is poisons, _obviously_. Right now you're experiencing the effects of a contact paralytic. It'll wear off in about half an hour, so don't freak out." There were some muted whimpers and grunts.

"So, I've gone over your coursework from last year, and I _know_ that you all have learned various diagnostic spells to identify stuff in general, so you've got no excuse for using them. _Especially_ when walking into a class named Applied Magic. Now let me make this clear," I paused for a second to emphasize my point, "by the time you walk out that door at the end of this year, you _will_ be capable of managing some minuscule measure of defense against the myriad threats waiting to eat you alive."

As Bloom sat her desk and fought to move her limbs, she felt a cold spike of fear. She hadn't been sure what to expect from the new class when she and her friends had read about it on their schedules, but as the tall, thin, brown haired man in the ragged looking armored leather duster calmly explained what was in store for them, she felt certain she was looking at a villain in disguise. She couldn't help but grunt in discomfort as the awful prickling sensation wracking her body seemed to increase a little bit. Who the _hell_ poisoned a classroom? Seriously? She struggled to concentrate through the pain as Professor Ryan outlined the course objectives. She had the sinking feeling this would be the only form of help or warning they would receive.

"We'll be starting with various forms of detection and preparation before moving on to the more strenuous work involved with defending against physical and mental assaults..." Professor Ryan explained, and Bloom found it odd how pleasant and reassuring his deep voice sounded, in sharp contrast to his haunted and ragged appearance. Wait... mental assault? Mind magic was considered capital E evil! Which... actually made sense to learn to defend against, now that she thought about it, even if the process of doing so was a bit of a gray area. Better in a classroom than against an actual villain, right? Even if she _was_ positive that she was staring at one right now.

The contact poison wore off soon enough, and all the students started to shout at me as soon as it did.

"Everyone _shut up_!" I bellowed, and a small surge of my power caused the room to ripple and distort as space-time shuddered. That quieted them down right quick.

"Thank you. Now... you don't like it? Too bad. I've seen too many people die because they weren't prepared, and my job is to make sure that doesn't happen to you," I growled as I sat down behind my desk, gripping the arms of my chair to hide the fact that my hands were shaking. That had been a bit too much like the shrill screams of the villagers as Avacyn's angels butchered them. Shit. I wasn't ready for this. I should just tell Faragonda I was a shitty teacher and try to find a resort plane or something. I realized the room was filled with a terrible silence as the class waited on a knife's edge for my next words. The students had subconsciously started to huddle together, as if numbers would save them from what I could do when I _really_ got going.

"Sorry. Now," I reached into the satchel under my desk and pulled out three vials of liquid, "two of these vials are potent healing elixirs, and one is an extremely virulent poison." I poured some liquid from each vial into three separate identical cups. "I want one of you to come up here and use your magic to identify the poison. Any volunteers?" There was a long and uncertain pause.

"No?" I sighed, "well okay then. You," I pointed to a tall girl with exceptionally long sandy brown hair.

"M-m-me?" she stammered as her eyes widened in panic.

"Yes, you. What's your name?"

"F-flora," the girl practically whispered.

"Right, Flora, you just got volunteered. Come on up here, and don't worry. It's not like I'm going to make you drink it if you fuck up," I tried to reassure the girl. Oddly enough, that didn't seem to make her more comfortable. The girl, Flora, reluctantly walked up to my desk and stuck her trembling hand out over the cups and stammered her way through an incantation.

"Umm... that one?" she tentatively declared, pointing to the cup that was covered in red sparkles.

"Yep. Congratulations Miss Flora, but you need to work on your incantation. You were far to reticent to commit," I instructed her before waving her back to her desk. As she turned around, I fired off a quick counterspell to nullify the tell tale glow and then used my powers to shuffle the cups. "Next volunteer please."

By the time class ended, most of the girls had correctly identified the poison, and I'd given them a few pointers on how to improve their spell casting. They were far too... _slow_. And that was the sad truth of it. I'd learned my craft the hard way, with hordes of eldrazi spawn at my throat and the fresh corpses of Humans, Elves, Kor, Goblins, Mer and even Vampires leaking their vital fluids into the dry bone white dust around my knees as we desperately strove to keep what little ground we had. I'd refined further amidst the unholy terrors and fallow, rotting fields of Innistrad while a crazed goddess butchered her worshipers and the myriad monsters devoured those that survived. They had neither a Planeswalker's raw instinctive talent for magic, nor the constant threat of a horrible death to push them to develop their skills at the breakneck pace I had. I groaned and took a long pull from a hip flask full of an extremely expensive Ravnican whiskey that Jace had given me as a "get well" gift. Honestly, it had seemed extremely out of character for the man to act with such sentiment. Hell, he'd probably done so as a psychological ploy to make me feel slightly indebted to him, but I appreciated it nevertheless. I loved a good whiskey.

"Professor Ryan?" There was a lightning ax in my hand and a counterspell on my lips almost before I'd registered the unexpected voice, and I could feel my sanity beginning to fray as I reflexively started to sacrifice my mind and memory for power. But then I saw the scared pale face of the auburn haired girl from earlier and dismissed the my reflexive attack.

"Next time, fucking _knock_. I damn near killed you, girl," I breathed. Great, here I was, a violent unstable wreck of a Planeswalker, unexpectedly entrusted with educating a bunch of vapid and unsuspecting teenage girls. Ohhhhh, yeah. This was gonna go _great_.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Planeswalker's Recovery 2**

"You _poisoned_ the class?!" Faragonda yelled at me. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

" _Mildly_ , I _mildly_ poisoned the class," I corrected the severe looking brown haired headmistress. "And I was thinking that poison is an _excellent_ way to attack a magic user. You yourself said that half these girls here are princesses, or nobles, or heirs to other sorts of magical legacies. Are you _really_ telling me that they aren't going to make enemies?"

"No," Faragonda sighed. "Your reasoning is sound, but I doubt their parents will see it that way, so you'll have to deal with that. Just letting you know."

"Don't worry," I scoffed. "I'm _more_ than capable of handling a few pissed off parents."

"Headmistress Faragonda, I could use your... oh, pardon me, I didn't realize you had a guest," a tiny little fairy with coughed as she appeared in the room in a shower of golden sparkles. She was maybe a foot tall, with golden blonde hair tied up in a pair of Princess Leia buns, and dressed in a powder blue robe with a large matching witch's hat.

"It's alright Concorda," Faragonda reassured the British sounding lady. "You haven't met Professor Ryan yet, have you?"

"Erm... no," Concorda eyed me warily. "How do you do?"

"Pleased to meet you," I replied pleasantly, reaching out to shake her hand. Well, it was less of a handshake and more of a finger-shake, but the idea was there.

"Now, what was the problem. Concorda?" Faragonda inquired.

"It seems miss Stella has run afoul of a rather nasty and exceptionally dark transformation spell," Concorda explained, and I caught her giving me another nervous look out of the corner of her eye. "And I was hoping you might be able to assist her before they try to run off on a quest for the Mirror of Truth."

"Isn't that on the other side of the Barrier Mountains?" Faragonda asked, more to herself than either of us. "Yes, Concorda, I'll take a look. Ryan, I'd like you to come too."

"Sure," I grunted as I stood up and shoved my hands in my duster. "I can take a look for you."

"Well, if you say so," Concorda muttered, sounding like she didn't _really_ want me present, but was too polite to say so.

"They're in the archive?" Faragonda asked as she started chanting and waggling her fingers.

"Yes," Concorda confirmed as she and I both moved to stand next to Faragonda. I knew the start of a teleport when I saw one. We'd made rather liberal use of them on Zendikar, mostly to run away from the eldrazi. There was another bright flurry of sparkles, because everything on this plane just _had_ to be _glittery_ , and we appeared amidst enormous shelves full of every kind of book, tome, scroll, and grimoire you could imagine.

"Did you just... _giggle_?" Faragonda asked me incredulously as I gazed at the wealth of knowledge surrounding me.

" _Absolutely_ _not_ ," I replied crossly. "It was probably a couple of students sneaking a quickie." Nevermind the fact that surrounding area was completely deserted.

"Uh-huh, undoubtedly," Faragonda drawled in reply, clearly not believing a word of it as we followed Concorda. I tried to ignore the butterfly shaped book stands that adorned the few polished oak tables we passed. This plane was going to drive me more nuts than the last two combined.

"Girls? I'm back," Concorda called out as we turned the last corner to see four girls and a green being that wouldn't look out of place in a goblin lair sitting around a table.

"Headmistress Faragonda!" they all gasped in stereo. Upon seeing me, they merely gasped. There was also a touch of whimpering from the brunette, which I recognized as Flora.

"Flora, how's your casting speed coming along?" I asked politely.

"I'm getting better," she mumbled.

"Stella, do you mind telling me how this happened?" Faragonda asked in a surprisingly gentle tone as she adjusted her glasses and and started casting diagnostic spells. I extended my senses as well. One of the benefits of being a Planeswalker, I was _far_ more magically adept than any ordinary being. In this case, it let me understand that Stella's "curse," while moderately powerful and reeking of black and green mana, was still merely an enchantment, not a particularly special one at that. I rubbed my chin and squinted a little. Ironically, while I was sure I could undo it, my problem was that it was a little _too_ unremarkable. I'd learned my craft on the battlefields of Zendikar, and refined it amidst the unholy massacres perpetrated by Avacyn's angels and the hordes of Eldrazi spawn that had heralded Emrakul's emergence on Innistrad. I didn't really _do_ small.

"I'm afraid I'm not overly skilled in counterspells," Faragonda sighed, her tone heavy. Around the table, the girls' faces fell. "This is a bit beyond my capabilities," the Headmistress admitted forlornly. "Ryan?"

"Yeah, yeah I have... _a_ way to get rid of it," I replied. "We're not going to want to do it here though." I inhaled and gathered my power around me, twisting space like warm caramel as I moved everyone out into the woods behind Alfea. This way I wouldn't hit the books.

"Guhhh," one of the girls staggered and collapsed to her knees. "What _was_ that?"

"I moved us out of the archive just in case," I explained. "Stella, please come over here." I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the rest of the group. This way if something went wrong I wouldn't scour my boss _and_ several students from existence. That would be a bit of an "oops" moment if ever there was one.

"Wait, what are you going to do?" Stella asked nervously as she tried to stop herself from wringing her clammy green hands.

"Don't worry about it," I reassured her. I sure as shit wasn't about to tell the girl that I was going wipe a very specific bit of reality right out of existence. I pulled on the pure nothingness of the Blind Eternities as I focused on the curse. Wrapping my power around it and ignoring the flickers of distorted reality in the corners of my vision, I _tore_ at the curse, wiping its presence from time and space in a matter of seconds. "There, all done," I announced.

"Hhhrrrrnnnneeaaggh." Stella dry heaved and shuddered on the ground. But hey, she was back to her usual human self, so she'd be fine. Plus or minus the odd nightmare, nausea, mana burn, and existential terror that came from being in close proximity with the barest _sliver_ of the Blind Eternities. As I'd learned, they were a _very_ bad place for any mortal being without a Spark to be.

"What did you _do_?" Faragonda demanded as the girls rushed to help their friend.

"I removed the curse," I unhelpfully explained. "It really wasn't that bad."

"Bad?! Everything went... _squidgy_!" one of the girls yelled. The one with the purple hair and the posh upper class accent. There certainly seemed to be a _lot_ of those at Alfea.

"Is that the scientific term, Techna?" Stella laughed weakly. I frowned slightly at that. It was as good a term as any to describe the effects of reality distortions. Squidgy, weird, fucking awful, wibbly-wobbly, all of them applied equally well.

"What do you mean the curse wasn't that bad?" Faragonda pressed as she pulled me away from the students.

"I mean that, really, it wasn't all that powerful. I've seen _far_ worse." I shrugged and stuck my hands in my pockets.

"And _how_ did you remove it, precisely?" Faragonda continued as she crossed her arms over her chest and speared me with a stern glare.

"Well, remember what I did to your desk? It's the same principle, just with an enchantment instead of an object," I replied. Faragonda eyed me warily but didn't investigate further.

Later that night Faragonda slumped in her overstuffed chair as she nursed a glass of Solarian brandy. She was sitting in her study next to a healthy fire, sipping on a bottle of liquor that tasted like distilled sunlight on a warm spring day, and was utterly miserable.

"I don't know _what_ I was thinking when I hired him, Concorda. I really don't," she sighed as her pixie companion sipped on a thimble of alcohol next to her.

"You wanted a professor capable of handling any unpleasantness that might occur like it has the past two years, and was capable of ensuring that the students could do the same. And you _did_ succeed," Concorda reminded her boss pleasantly.

"I know, I know," Faragonda grumbled. "It's just that I had envisioned someone who wouldn't be out of place over at Red Fountain, and got..."

"A traumatized, unhinged mess of a man barely held together by alcohol and spite?" Concorda primly supplied.

"I noticed you giving him some odd looks earlier," Faragonda muttered. "Is it safe to assume you got a look inside his head?"

"To my eternal regret, yes," Concorda replied with a shudder. "Gonda... listen, the _things_ he's seen are horrible beyond description. I only got a _glimpse_ , and I certainly won't be sleeping well for the foreseeable future... but he's not _sane_. And he has _far_ more power than I'm comfortable with."

"I noticed _that_ ," Faragonda grumbled after taking another sip. "He handled that curse with no diagnostic spells, no incantation, no preparation, and acted like it was barely worth mentioning. I can't tell if he's just that crazy, or just that powerful. You know, there's only one other person I've ever met who was so cavalier about spellwork like that..." Faragonda trailed off as she massaged her chin and her mind wandered back along the well trod pathways of her long gone youth.

"Little of column A, little of column B," Concorda guessed morosely, oblivious to the headmistress' musings.

"Thank you. Concorda. For making me feel _soooo_ much better about my decision," Faragonda growled.

"Well this might. He's not a _bad_ person, 'Gonda. Just damaged and paranoid." Concorda slurred a little bit, causing Faragonda to chuckle at her friend's distress.

"Alright, fine, I'll let him stay, see if I can't help him pull himself back together abit," Faragonda sighed. "And if nothing else, we'll have an ace up our sleeves in case somebody like Darkar comes crawling around again."

"You always _were_ a sucker for charity cases, 'Gonda," Concorda hiccupped.

"Oh go get squashed by a book," Faragonda huffed companionably as she settled in to finish off the bottle. "Huh... where'd all the brandy go?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A Planeswalker's Recovery 3**

My students filed nervously into the classroom, having previously drawn straws to see who would have to go first. It was Orchid's turn to play point-woman this time, and she stepped through the door frame with all the fear and resignation of a Vietnam tunnel rat. She started with a magically active pole, proceeded to check her corners with a mirror, sprayed some glitter around the edges to see if there were any trip wires, checked for poisons and airborne toxins, and then reluctantly edged through the actual doorway, her entire body poised to leap backwards at the slightest hint of trouble.

"Clear!" she called out, letting everybody know it was safe to enter the classroom. Each student then proceeded to exhaustively check their desks for booby traps, and found none. This only made them more paranoid, having long since learned that the longer everything went right, the more catastrophic the inevitable fuck up would be. They were learning so fast. It would almost bring a tear to my eye if I was actually emotionally invested in their education in any meaningful way. That said, they were no longer terrible, and might survive into full adulthood.

"Not bad girls. A bit slow, but better safe than sorry," I congratulated them, and a few of the girls with weaker constitutions actually _paled_ a little bit. "Now, did any of you notice anything odd about the ceiling?" Their eyes widened with kind of existential terror normally only experienced by people forced to have an extended conversation with Lelianna Vess, and they _slowly_ looked upwards at the innocently white ceiling.

"It's _perfectly_ uniform," Tecna whispered as she stared at it like it was an eldrazi spawn.

"Very good, Tecna," I congratulated the magenta haired girl. I heard a few whimpers. "The topic of today's lesson is situational awareness. The devil is in the details, as they say..."

"So what devil is in _that_ detail?" Orchid sighed, not taking her eyes off the sinister ceiling. I didn't bother answering since it was rhetorical. They knew better than to ask for hints during a practical session by now.

"Alright, I'm pretty sure that's an illusion, but what's it hiding?" another girl wondered. Her statement was followed by the terrified silence of my entire class realizing they were probably staring death right in the eye socket.

"Orchid, it's still your turn," Stella prompted, causing the svelte white haired girl to let out a small squeak of despair. With trembling fingers, Orchid wove a quick counter-spell and removed the illusion, revealing...

"There's... _nothing_ ," Bloom declared in a relieved voice.

"No there isn't. _Check it again_!" one of the other students, a willowy blonde girl named Aurora, yelped. Immediately half the class bombarded the ceiling with counter-spells and detection spells, while the other half just skipped all that information gathering bullshit and started tossing combat evocations. The ceiling shook as fireballs, icicles, force blasts, wind blades, hydrojets, magical missiles, and couple arcs of lightning ravaged the plastered brickwork. Bits of flaming debris and small chunks of stone rained down onto our heads as dust and smoke filled the room.

"There... really _is_ nothing there," I heard someone point out in a decidedly relieved tone of voice.

"Correct," I confirmed. "But well done. It's good to see you're all actually learning from me. The _real_ question is, did any of you check your meals in the cafeteria?" Most of the class answered in the affirmative, with about a third timidly shaking their heads.

"Ah, well, for those of you that didn't... _have fun_." I dusted off my worn jacket and walked over to crack open a window. "Moving on, today we're going to discuss..."

" _Ryan_! _What the fuck was that_?!" Professor Wizgiz bellowed at me. The pint sized Leprechaun had shifted into a nine foot tall dire-bear and his entire class was staring at me with naked terror.

"That was the sound of proper paranoia. Don't worry, all you adorably naive little meat-shields. _You'll learn_ ," I threatened the first years, who huddled together, seeking safety in numbers as the sun shone merrily overhead.

"Dammit, Ryan," Wizgiz growled, "is anyone hurt?"

"Nah," I reassured him, "they're fine." I judiciously decided not to mention the cafeteria food. It was only doctored with a mild variation of a Stitchers' soporific. One that would lead to a short period of night terrors, because Stitchers were fucking nutjobs who loved playing with corpses and sticking new fleshy bits onto people. _Fucking_ Stitchers.

"Then what were all those explosions? I know combat magic when I hear it," Wizgiz pressed.

"My students were just being extra thorough while checking the ceiling for nasty surprises," I explained.

"And they would feel the need to do so with evocations _because_?"

"Well, there might have been a nasty surprise on the ceiling," I replied calmly. "There wasn't _this_ time."

"...Am I going to have to have a talk with Griselda?" Wizgiz scowled at me.

"If it makes you feel better." I shrugged. "Can't say it'll help though."

"Does this happen to have anything with the poisoned food at lunch?" Griselda asked without even looking up as Wizgiz and I stepped into her office.

" _Poisoned food_?!" Wizgiz shrieked.

"You didn't notice that?" I asked in surprise. "Come on man, how have you lived this long if you don't check your food?"

" _Because I'm not a paranoid asshole who booby traps his classroom to test his students!_ " Wizgiz bellowed, clearly enraged.

"You booby trapped your classroom?" Griselda demanded as she finally looked up from the paperwork she was trying to read, clearly having concluded that she would be getting nothing done until we were gone.

"Not this time. It's okay, I wouldn't _actually_ kill anyone," I reassured her. "However, letting them think I might encourages them to take the lessons seriously. I find that imminent demise is _excellent_ for concentration. Really brings out your 'A' game."

"That's... y'know what? Not even going to ask. In fact, in light of this incident, I have a _present_ for you," Griselda sighed as she reached under her desk. I tensed, preparing to draw on my power as she popped back up with... a large basket full of letters? They might have contact poison on them, I couldn't afford to let my guard down. She shoved the basket towards me, and I quickly wove a series of diagnostic spells around the basket and its contents.

"...They're just letters, Ryan," Griselda growled.

"I once saw a man's flesh get melted off because he opened a letter in his mailbox without checking first," I replied. "Then the fucking thing _drank_ his liquified organs. Killed three people before we put it down. You people aren't _nearly_ paranoid enough." Admittedly, the letter hadn't done that so much as the Eldrazi Spawn hidden inside it had, and it wasn't like anybody thought the fucking things could _literally_ hide behind words, but I'd learned _my_ lesson.

"Oooohhh-kaaaayyyy..." Wizgiz muttered slowly as he took several cautious steps away from me and Griselda stared at me over the top of her horn-rimmed spectacles. A couple of letters triggered my warning spells, and I erased them from existence.

" _Nrgh._ " Wizgiz and Griselda both winced and looked vaguely sick. "The fuck was _that_?" Wizgiz demanded.

"Those letters were dangerous, so I removed them," I explained. "Now, what are these things, actually?"

"Those are from angry parents, who are rather incensed about you poisoning, attacking, and generally threatening their children. Have fun responding to them," Griselda waspishly explained as Wizgiz's face split into a smile overflowing with schadenfreude. "Oh, and a few of the more old fashioned ones have made official demands for duels."

"Can I have their names?" I politely inquired.

"No," Griselda snapped, correctly deducing that I would use that information to preemptively defend myself.

"...Are we actually dueling?"

"Also no. It's unprofessional," Griselda sniffed.

"Hey, can we double back around to the whole poisoning thing?" Wizgiz demanded stridently.

"Oh don't be a pussy, you should be able to purge a minor soporific," I reassured him.

"I took a sample to Professor Palladium, _he_ said it would cause extreme night terrors," Griselda snarled through teeth clenched so tight that I thought I could see flakes chipping off.

"Only for a few days," I shrugged. "That's really not that bad. Have you tried _living_ with them?" Griselda and Wizgiz shared a long look before turning back to me.

"Nevertheless, you won't be paid for as long as the night terrors last, and you're going to have to respond to all those parents' letters. Now get lost, I've got work I need to get done, and so do you," Griselda barked as she shoved the basket into my hands.

"Alright, _alright_ ," I huffed as I hustled out the door. I looked at the mountain of folded paper resting in my arms. "Ugh, look at all these whiners."

"Alright, I'm back, siddown and shut up," I hollered as I reentered my classroom.

"Professor Ryan? What's with all the letters?" a teal haired girl named Bytella asked nervously.

"Apparently my teaching style is the cause of some consternation, to which I say tough shit. This school's already been attacked multiple times within the past two years, and y'all _clearly_ need to learn how to take care of yourselves, because the _next_ asshole might not be three bitches with delusions of grandeur, or an inept would-be god," I explained as I kicked the offending letters underneath my desk.

" _Would-be_?! Darkar was an _actual_ ancient deity of pure darkness!" Bloom shrieked. I sighed, and took a long pull from my flask to steady myself as I sank into my chair.

"And the fact that _barely_ anybody died at all is proof that he was in incompetent _fuck-up_ , and utterly unworthy of the title. Girls..." I blinked and and drank some more, "I have _killed_ gods, and things so far beyond _them_ that reality itself unravels from the mere weight of their presence," I let all the weariness and power of my status and experiences seep into my voice for the first time, and my students stiffened, their eyes fixed on me as my words washed over them. "I am hard on you because there is a _very_ real chance you will need to defend yourselves from beings that will kill you just because they _can_. From _things_ so inimical to life that your minds will simply _shatter_ rather than behold them. You _will_ leave this class as prepared as I can reasonably make you because you _need_ to at least be able to survive, even if it's only long enough to run away." I looked around, and for a moment all I could see was the army breaking at the Seagate as Ulamog and Kozilek's spawn turned the world chalky white, the mountains of bodies Avacyn's angels left in their wake as Emrakul drove them further into madness.

"You don't have to like me," I concluded. "All you have to do is _learn_."


	4. Chapter 4

**A Planeswalker's Recovery 4**

Bloom shuddered as she stared at Professor Ryan. She was still upset about him referring to Darkar as a mere hack, but... he just looked so _broken_. It was terrifying to see the ragged looking man who'd been able to effortlessly break Stella's curse, which had even given _Headmistress Faragonda_ trouble, look so weary. Over the past two months, Professor Ryan had been an unwavering specter of doom within Alfea's walls. He was sarcastic, cavalier, eternally pessimistic, and his class was consistently one of the most brutal ordeals she had yet endured, but she was _learning_. Her spells had gotten faster, stronger, and her repertoire more varied as a result of his... well, she hesitated to call it _teaching_ , but that was technically what he was doing. And his claims... she could barely believe them, but at the same time she _knew_ it was possible to at least defeat god-like beings. She and her friends had done it to Darkar, so Bloom couldn't just dismiss Professor Ryan's assertions out of hand even though she really _really_ wanted to. The thought of something so powerful that people would go insane just from looking at it sounded more like a monster from one of those old horror novels she used to read, and the _idea_ that something like them might really _exist_ was enough to make her want to crawl under her covers and never come out. Even Darkar, an ancient deity of pure darkness, hadn't done _that_.

The class was utterly silent as Professor Ryan's Power filled the room, pressing on them from all sides and causing an uncomfortable feeling of... of... _space_ , like everything didn't actually have the right dimensions, even though her senses insisted everything was fine. The emptiness dragged on for a few more moments as the professor's eyes turned _not-gray_ , and then the sensation passed, and the ragged man was suddenly the same cynical drunk they'd all grown to know and fear.

"Class dismissed," he grunted abruptly. "No homework, just remember what I said." They all gathered their bags and rushed out the door.

"So... are we going to talk about that?" Tecna asked as she nervously ran a hand through her short magenta hair.

"Yeah?" Stella replied uncertainly as she chewed on her bottom lip. "I mean, that was _freaky_. Like, I'm not sure if I'll be sleeping tonight freaky."

"And what was all that about killing _gods_?" Musa demanded as she played with her navy hair. The pale skinned girl chewed on her lip nervously as she glanced around, as if fearing that she'd be overheard. "I mean, Darkar was _technically_ a god, I suppose, but he implied that he's killed _several_." The group was silent as they processed the implications.

"He's got the scars to show for it, though," Flora eventually said as they started up the final set of stairs to their dorm rooms. "No wonder he drinks."

"Ugh, you know what? Forget all this depressing stuff. Stella's stepmother is still an evil harpy, that Valtor guy those Trix were on about is still out there, and worst of all, he's invading _Andros_!" Aisha declared. The boisterous ebony skinned girl bounced up the stairs and spun around once she reached the landing, shaking her index finger at them. "This may be callous, but that's _his_ problem to deal with. We've got our own!" Bloom frowned and pursed her lips as she considered her friend's assertions. She wasn't _entirely_ sure that Professor Ryan's problems were entirely his own, or that _their_ problems wouldn't become his. So far he'd proven himself to be far more powerful than even _Faragonda_ , and... Bloom shook her head.

"Bloom? What is it?" Flora asked. Of _course_ she would pick up on that, Bloom lamented. Flora always was more observant than anybody realized.

"It's just... I dunno, I've got a funny feeling," Bloom sighed. "Like... listen, Valtor's bad news, right?" The girls nodded, clearly wondering where she was taking this. "He claims to have escaped this... _Omega Dimension_ , or..."

"He _did_ ," Aisha interrupted. "Which should have been impossible, I'd like to add. But that psycho is still taking over my _home_ , and I'm going to _do_ something about it!"

"Like what?" Stella demanded stridently. "We can't just break the spell. We don't know how yet!"

"I'll bet Professor Ryan can figure out how," Tecna suggested, and then quailed slightly as they all turned to her. "Listen, he broke Stella's curse like it was nothing, didn't he? Logically, he's the most likely candidate for outside help." Bloom opened the door to their dorm and stood off to one side so her friends could enter the expansive suite they all shared.

"But _will_ he?" Aisha demanded. "I'm going to be honest here, the only reason I'm not on Andros right now is because I thought maybe Alfea would have something in the library that could help, but my research has turned up nothing. Just because he can reverse _one_ curse on Stella doesn't mean he can undo the curse Valtor placed on my people and seal the Omega Portal."

"Well, who _else_ can do it?" Stella demanded. "Faragonda, maybe?"

"I asked, but she just said that she was looking into it," Aisha shook her head. "Come on girls, we handled Darkar, we can take care of _this_."

"We _barely_ destroyed Darkar," Musa pointed out. "And _that_ was only because of our Charmix forms, which we _still_ can't maintain for long. Breaking a curse on an entire _realm_ is a serious undertaking."

"I _know_!" Aisha snapped fiercely as the ebony skinned princess shoved her face into Musa's. After a second she leaned back and ran a hand through her long, curly black hair. "Sorry, Musa, I didn't mean that. It's just..."

"I know," Musa wrapped her friend in a supportive hug. "You're under a lot of stress."

"Yeah, it isn't easy seeing your home being taken over, whether it's by a curse or an _actual_ evil stepmother," Stella agreed vigorously. Her green eyes sparkled fiercely as she leapt up off her bed and struck a heroic pose. " _That's_ why we should at least _ask_ Professor Ryan, and if he can't help us we'll just take care of it ourselves like we did Darkar!" Stella ended her inspiring little speech with a triumphant fist pump, and Bloom couldn't help but giggle at her friend's theatrics.

"She's right," Bloom declared. "Besides, I'm sure the boys would jump at the chance to help us out."

"They _do_ so love playing dashing heroes," Aisha agreed slowly. "Alright, let's call them up first and see if they know anything. Red Fountain might have information Alfea doesn't."

"So, Skye says Red Fountain's got nothing on saving an entire realm from an evil spell other than, and I quote, 'stab the evil bastard that did it,'" Bloom reported morosely two days later. "Apparently some of the other Specialists there have heard about what happened to Andros and have been looking into it as well."

"Right, so that leaves us with Professor Ryan, or... what?" Musa demanded.

"Well, there's Taboc, but there's no guarantee he's even _alive_ anymore," Aisha mumbled thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin. "Between old age, the curse, and all the criminals escaping from the Omega Portal, he might be dead," she finished with a pained expression.

"Who's Taboc?" Flora asked timidly.

"He's a family friend, and one of the wizards who created the Omega Portal in the first place," Aisha explained morosely. "If anyone would know how to close it, he would. But t-there's no guarantee he's still alive."

"We should look for him," Stella exclaimed. "If he's the guy who originally created the portal, then he's the man we should go to first."

"It _does_ seem more reasonable than taking a wild shot in the dark, or hoping that our unstable teacher can somehow pull another miracle out of his whiskey flask," Tecna agreed reasonably as she squinted at the screen of her handheld computer. The maroon haired fairy frowned and stashed the device in her pocket before bouncing up off her bed. "So, that's the plan?"

"Head to Andros, find Taboc, go from there," Aisha confirmed with a nod. "Yeah. Now I'm kicking myself for not thinking of him earlier. We'll still have to break the curse Valtor cast, but maybe Taboc will have an idea for that, too."

"Why _didn't_ you think of him earlier, if you don't mind me asking?" Musa inquired.

"I haven't seen him in years," Aisha replied sheepishly. "It... just didn't occur to me, you know? I was so focused on the danger my parents and my people are in."

"Don't worry, we'll stop him," Bloom reassured Aisha.

"We'll need someone to cover for us," Stella pointed out from her bed. "This sounds like it'll take a few days, at _least_ , and claiming we're sick won't cut it."

"You're not backing out on us, are you Stella?" Musa teased the blonde princess, though there was a slight edge in her voice.

" _No_!" Stella snapped. "But are you _really_ confident in sneaking a simple 'oh I'm sick' excuse past the nurse, Griselda, _and_ Ryan?" They all thought about for a few seconds.

"Good point," - Bloom conceded - "and we'll need somebody to pick up our classwork anyways."

"Plus, you're concerned about your father, aren't you?" Flora asked quietly.

"He didn't recognize _me_! His own _daughter_ , after my talent-less stepmother and stepsister managed to _somehow_ get enough power to transform me into a _monster_!" Stella shrieked. "Of _course_ I'm worried."

"Hey, I _totally_ understand," Aisha interjected. "At least we can just zap the scumbags laying siege to Andros. If Valtor is behind Cassandra's marriage to your father, as well as hers and Chimera's sudden power boost, he could conquer Solaria without ever even firing a shot."

"Yeah," Stella sighed. "Good luck guys. I'll be sure to pay attention in class for you."

"You'd _better_ ," Tecna growled facetiously. "I've seen the abominations you call notes."

"Aw, come on. They're not _that_ bad," Stella objected as her friends began packing their bags.

"Yes, they _are_ ," the other five girls agreed in stereo.

"Hey, how are we getting there? It's not like we can use Alfea's portal network," Bloom pointed out.

"Oh, don't you worry, Bloom," - Tecna waved her hand reassuringly - "just give me twenty four hours or so to whip something up."


	5. Chapter 5

**A Planeswalker's Recovery 5**

"Stella, do I look like an idiot to you?" I barked as the brunette girl tried to spin some bullshit about her friends being sick for the third day in a row.

"W-what?" she stammered, chewing her overly glossy lip as she tried to meet my eyes.

"I said, do I look like an idiot to you?" I repeated myself as I leaned on my desk. "Contrary to popular belief, I _am_ aware of how human emotions work. If your friends were _really_ as sick as you claim, you'd have made sure they got to the nurse's office for treatment, and if they _had_ , Nurse Ofelia would have let me know. Since cutting class seems more _your_ schtick than theirs, that means they are off doing something stupid right now." I narrowed my eyes as Stella looked increasingly nervous and began to fidget a little bit with her bag's straps. "So, _Stella_ , where are they?"

"T-t-they're, umm," Stella struggled to speak as I glared at her. Her lower lip quivered and then she spilled the beans. "They went to Andros. Aisha's realm. Valtor opened a portal to the Omega Dimension there, and it's been flooded with escaped criminals and poisoned by Valtor's evil curse," Stella blurted out. "They went to try and find this sage named Taboc who might be able to break the curse, and I stayed behind because I was worried about my dad and he just disowned me and _everything is going wrong_!" Stella devolved into full blown hysterics, tears streaming down her cheeks as she broke out into great, choking sobs. She looked like shit, all running makeup and snot flowing from her nose. I just sat there awkwardly as she dribbled all over my desk and tried to figure out what to say.

"Umm... sorry?" I ventured cautiously. I wasn't used to teenage girls crying. Or at least I wasn't used to them crying in _this_ sort of situation. The crying teenage girls I'd encountered so far were usually doing so because their families had just been eaten, murdered, butchered, necromantically resurrected, or some variation thereof by the multitude of horrors endemic to their planes. "It's going to be fine?" I tried again when my initial reassurances failed to have an effect.

"But it's _not_ ," Stella snapped, her thin, delicate face scrunched up in emotional agony as she snapped her head up to look at me. "My _father_ marries this... this _harpy_ and all of a sudden he can't even _remember_ me! He _literally disowned me_! I have _nothing_ left! Do you have any idea what that's like?" My jaw clenched as I recalled my own plane, one I'd long since given up hope of ever seeing again, but, in a moment of supreme self control, I refrained from tearing into Stella and simply took a _long_ pull on my flask.

"Some. Yes," I answered, my voice rough with repressed emotion. "Well, your first step should be identifying the enchantment your father has been placed under."

"I can't get close enough," Stella objected. "He won't even speak to me any more." I sighed and massaged my temples.

"Stella, are you _honestly_ telling me that your guards wouldn't do you a favor? Because this sounds suspicious as _fuck_ , and I doubt they're so stupid as to take everything at face value. How about security weaknesses? You grew up in your dad's castle, where all the little nooks and crannies? Furthermore, you're the _Princess of Light_ , apparently. Bend the fucking light around you to turn invisible!" I exclaimed exasperatedly. "Really, this _isn't_ complicated."

"But... that's pretty advanced," Stella mumbled as her sobs subsided into sniffles and she began playing with her hair a little.

"So practice. I mean, I assume this means enough to you to warrant a little extra work?" I remarked acerbically, earning me a withering glower in response. Stella was about to snap back at me when my senses tingled, causing me to sit straight up in my chair. Any Planeswalker who wanted to survive learned how to tell when something was wrong, magically speaking. Having a Spark, that intrinsic connection to the Blind Eternities and the very essence of magic itself, meant that we were _very_ good at figuring out when something wonky was going wrong. It was a bit different for everyone, but from my discussions with Jace, Gideon, Chandra, and Nissa, we all could tell when something was up. For me, it felt like... ripples, was the best way I could describe it. I could feel the distortions in space, coming from the general direction of the courtyard.

"Sshh." I held my hand up to forestall any arguments as I abruptly stood up, knocking my chair backwards as I did so, and _stepped_ between spaces, appearing in the courtyard amidst a shimmering, glassy-like distortion just as the Aisha emerged from a shimmering green portal that felt... _familiar_. It wasn't _quite_ like the feeling I got when Planeswalking, but it was close enough to make my hairs stand on end. Bloom, Musa, Tecna, and Flora popped back into Alfea's courtyard mere moments later, and I spotted an equally furious Griselda making her way through the crowd, same as I was. The difference, of course, was that she didn't have my roiling cloak of power subconsciously screaming at everyone around the _get the fuck out of my way_. Tecna was holding a large device reminiscent of a remote which was clearly the source of the portal, as well as the focus of my attention as all the potential catastrophic scenarios its existence may incur ran through my mind.

If it _was_ capable of piercing the Blind Eternities and allowing non-Planeswalkers to travel between planes... the Phyrexians immediately came to mind. Gideon had shown me what those _things_ were capable of, and the thought of a horde biomechanical monstrosities obsessed with perfection and absolute unity at _any_ cost scared me almost as much as the Eldrazi. Not to mention Ob Nixilis, Nicol Bolas, Xenagos, Tezzeret, or thousand other undiscovered conquerors and horrors that would _gleefully_ tear this plane apart to get their hands on such a device.

"You girls have some explaining to do," - Griselda snapped - "regarding your multi-day unauthorized absence!"

"Please. Not now Griselda," Bloom pleaded as she gestured at Aisha, who was currently glittering and had sprouted three pairs of delicate gossamer wings. Not that I gave a shit, at the moment. "Aisha's blind. Valtor took her sight!" Grisaleda let out a sad sigh as the various students gathered around gasped in horror and Aisha hung her head. I paused for a second, tamping down on the little voice in my head screaming at me to scour Tecna from reality to ensure the safety of everybody else and damn the consequences, before approaching the group. The students scattered at my approach, and even Griselda seemed taken aback as I simply growled,

" **Faragonda's office, now!** " My powers lacing my words with the implacable weight of time itself as I reached out and shifted everyone to my desired location. Faragonda yelped and spilled her tea before snapping,

"What's going on here?"

"Valtor blinded Aisha with a spell!" Flora exclaimed. I took a couple of deep breaths, reminding myself that everything was, Tecna's portal device was currently contained, and I didn't need to immediately jump to "kill everything just in case." This wasn't Zendikar or Innistrad, I could take a minute to think before acting.

"Yes, Flora, I can see that," Faragonda reassured the girl as she circled Aisha, looking closely at her glittering wings. "Luckily, it seems Aisha here has achieved her Enchantix form. Your wings produce Fairy Dust, which can negate dark spells and heal people. Concentrate, Aisha, try to focus on your eyes," Faragonda coached the dark skinned girl. Personally, my opinion of this Valtor dropped even further. What kind of pussy wannabe _only_ used a spell that blocked sight? If he was serious about it, he should have destroyed her optics nerves, if not the eyes themselves.

"I can see again!" Aisha cheered as her eyes changed from milky white back to their original ocean blue.

"Great, wonderful, now everyone but Tecna **out** ," I ordered, causing them to jump in surprise.

"What? Why?" Tecna stammered.

"We're not just going to leave..." Aisha started to yell at me as she and the rest of the girls started form up around Tecna. Griselda and Faragonda slowly started moving towards my back, but that wasn't important at the moment.

" **Begone** ," I barked as I reached out and simply shunted them outside with a flex of my arcane muscles. I concentrated and wrapped the room in my power, sealing it off from the rest of the plane as I grabbed Tecna's wrist in a vice like grip and yanked it up to eye level, revealing the portal device to Griselda and Fragonda.

" **Girl, do you have** _ **any**_ **idea what you've done**?" I snarled as Tecna let out a quiet mewl of fear.

"I-it's just a Dimensional Passage Inducer," Tecna stammered. "It lets us move between Realms without having to use the naturally occurring portals. Please, you're hurting me."

"Use it. Now," I ordered. This would be the deciding factor. If Tecna's DPI _did_ interact with the Blind Eternities, it would be able to punch through the chaotic spatial warping I was using to seal Faragonda's Office away without any trouble. After all, there was _very_ little that could hold something connected to the Blind Eternities. If it failed, then she'd be safe. If it succeeded, I was going to have to ensure nobody could ever gain access to that kind of power.

" _Ryan_ , what _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Griselda growled at me, and I could feel her gathering and focusing her magic, preparing a spell if anything went wrong.

"Seeing how much danger your Plane is in," I retorted as Tecna fumbled with her device for a fer moments before hitting a button. The large, remote-like gray device hummed and glowed for a moment before sputtering and letting out an odd fizzle. I pulled on my connection to the Blind Eternities, searching for any signs of disturbance or distortion.

"That's odd," Tecna muttered as the device's readout flashed red and then went dark.

"You _are_ a Planeswalker," Faragonda stated, sounding slightly triumphant as I relaxed a bit and stepped away from Tecna, who looked slightly annoyed that her device wasn't working, but intensely relieved that I was no longer looming over her.

"Seriously, _what_ was all that about?" Griselda snapped, poised to raise her faintly glowing hands as she glowered at me over the top of her winged glasses.

"Tecna here is a _very_ lucky girl," I explained grimly. "Faragonda, you know what I am?"

"Why am I lucky, what's a Planeswalker, _what is happening_?" Tecna demanded shrilly.

"Ryan here is a Planeswalker," Faragonda breathed. "A being capable of traveling between the infinite Planes of the multiverse with the same ease as you or I might drive to the grocery store. I never thought I'd meet another."

"Correct," I confirmed before turning to Tecna. "Between the Planes are the Blind Eternities, a sort of limbo so inimical to life that, outside of one major exception, it cannot be traversed without a Planeswalker's Spark. That exception is a... race, I suppose is the best word, called the Phyrexians." I focused and snapped my fingers, using a touch of power to create an illusion of a Phyrexian as shown to me by Gideon, it's remaining skin and wet, exposed muscle pulled taught over the hideous metallic cybernetics that compromised the majority of its centipede-like body. "They view flesh as imperfect, a weakness to be replaced by metal and their entire religion revolves around the worship of their creator-s machines, along with a unified drive to 'perfect,' all flesh in the multiverse. A single drop of their oil will turn anyone it touches into a devoted cultist, which is all it takes to doom a Plane, and they have devoured _several_ thanks to their ability to travel between Planes without the Spark. The reason I reacted in the way I did, Tecna, was because _if_ you had done the same, if you had found a way to potentially replicate that feat, Magix would become a battleground for every Planeswalker who's ever dreamed of carving an inter-Planar empire for himself, or the Phyrexians who would come to destroy your technology."

Tecna stared, wide-eyed at the shimmering Phyrexian form, and looked like she was about to vomit. Griselda and Faragonda just looked grim as they put two and two together.

"What would you have done if Tecna's device..."

"Dimensional Passage Inducer," Tecna muttered under her breath.

"... _Had_ been able to access these Blind Eternities?" Faragonda finished her question, her expression more serious than any I'd seen from her yet.

"I'd have killed you," I informed Tecna, who paled and started shaking, her eyes flicking between me and the Phyrexian illusion.

"You would kill for what she _might_ do?!" Griselda snarled, as she prepared to attack me.

"Yes! I have seen too many Planes burn to allow it happen again!" I roared as I rounded on her. "If killing one person would spare yours that fate, then I would do it _gladly_." I took a deep breath, and the smell of Zendikar's dead, chalky white dust filled my sinuses. I took a quick pull on my flask and let the powerful drink burn away the memories before continuing. "Luckily, that isn't necessary today. All's well that ends well. Yay," I laughed bitterly, remembering the _many_ times where that was very much _not_ the case. "Last item on the agenda; not a _fucking_ word about _anything_ we just discussed, got it?"

"But why?' Tecna demanded as she slowly started to get over her newfound fear of me.

"Ryan, I'll explain. You... go somewhere else," Faragonda cut me off as I opened my mouth to respond. "We're going to have a _talk_ later."

"Sure," I grunted as I let the room reintegrate back into normal reality. A moment later, I was sitting on a distant roof, staring at the sunny blue sky as a few clouds scudded across it and a warm breeze ruffled my hair. Yeah, for a world as generally pleasant as this one, a few deaths were a small price to pay. I sighed took a pull on my flask. It sounded like I might have to pay this Valtor jackass a visit. Hard as I was on them, any fuckwit who thought he could get away with blinding one of my students was going to have to learn _just_ how wrong he was.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Planeswalker's Recovery 6**

"What the hell was _that_ all about?" Tecna demanded. She'd ordinarily never even _consider_ speaking to a teacher, much less Headmistress Faragonda _herself_ , in such a manner, but Professor Ryan's actions had left her rather out of sorts. And by out of sorts, she of course meant absolutely fucking _terrified_. The ragged man had always struck her as unstable, irrational even, but openly declaring that he would happily kill her for some sort of unknown offense, or remote possibility? It was just unthinkable. In front of her, Headmistress Faragonda sighed wearily and moved to sit in the comfy looking chair behind her desk.

"Tecna... as much as I disapprove of how Ryan handled the situation, there _is_ a reason for his reaction, and his warning. What I am about to tell you cannot be shared with _anyone_ , do you understand?" Faragonda declared ominously. She fixed Tecna with such a somber stare that Tecna shuddered. A cold weight settled in her stomach as she nodded in acknowledgement, unwilling to trust her mouth.

"Say it, Tecna," Faragonda insisted. "Swear it. On your family, on your magic, on your very _life_. It is _that_ serious. You cannot breathe a _word_ of this. Not to your friends, your family, your pets or children. _Nobody_ can know. This is _that_ serious."

"Won't ever tell anyone," Tecna declared, thoroughly disturbed by the uncharacteristic severity in Faragonda's tone. "Whatever you tell me, I'll take this to my grave. So do I swear."

"Good," Faragonda sighed, and Griselda slumped in relief. Tecna had almost forgotten the school's resident disciplinarian was present. "Tecna... Ryan was _not_ overreacting when he warned you of what lies beyond our Plane, or in his response to the potential threat of your Dimensional Passage Inducer. I have only ever met one other Planeswalker in my lifetime, and I never thought I would encounter another. They are beings of _immense_ power, and even greater rarity, and Ryan, for all his faults, is one of the better ones. I've been told of others who, much like he warned, would not hesitate to lay waste to the Magic Dimension in search of a means to transport something besides themselves across the Blind Eternities, and we would not be able to stop them."

"But, if there's only one..." Tecna started to object timidly, unable to contain herself in the face of how preposterous such an idea seemed.

"Tecna," - Faragonda cut her off - "you have seen, with your own eyes, the ease with which Ryan is able to cast spells far beyond _any_ of us. What would take me and my old companions an intricate and arduous ritual, he is able to perform with a wave of his hand and maybe a mumbled incantation. And he is _young_ , despite how old he seems. I've been warned of others so ancient and powerful that _gods_ dare not think their names. Of Planeswalkers that treat entire realities like pawns on a chessboard. _Ryan_ would be able to devastate us, should he put his mind to it." Faragonda sighed, and for the first time, the Headmistress of Alfea truly looked her age as she stared at the immaculate surface of her desk. Tecnna chewed on her lip and fidgeted, unwilling to believe what Faragonda was telling her, even though she already knew it to be true. Ryan had broken Stella's curse inside a minute, had shut down her DPI seemingly without effort, and had apparently killed things that were, in his own words, as far beyond gods as gods were beyond people like her. If _that_ was the level Planeswalkers played on, then she could see why Faragonda was so worried.

"Still... was a simple _warning_ not enough?" Tecna exclaimed. It was really more of a shriek, but she didn't really care at the moment. "I mean, he threatened to _kill_ me! Openly stated that he'd have ended my life _right here_ on the off chance my invention might be a threat! How... how can you be _okay_ with this? How can you let him _teach in a school_ , knowing what he's like?!" She was crying now as the magnitude of what she'd been facing hit her. Of what had been sitting behind a desk, drinking incessantly and doling out vicious lessons that had left her and others jumping at shadows.

"Because, no matter how much I wish otherwise, he and others like him are necessary, Tecna," Faragonda sighed. "It's terrible to say out loud, and if I had my way, none of the girls at this academy would ever experience anything but full, rich lives full of love and laughter, but that's not realistic. You should have learned by now that there will _always_ be another threat, another selfish, power obsessed sorceror or would-be conqueror waiting in the wings, and..." - Faragonda took a deep breath before continuing - "and sometimes you don't have the luxury of saving everyone. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is save as many as you can. Playing triage with the lives of others is ugly, gut churning, and you've been _very_ lucky to be able to avoid it thus far, but answer me honestly; do you consider your life more important than the safety of the entire Magic Dimension?" Faragonda asked, her voice as somber as a funeral.

"...No," Tecna readily admitted as her shoulders slumped. "I still don't like it though. It... it feels like a betrayal."

"Because it is," Griselda interjected. "The very concept of allowing you to die goes against everything we stand for as teachers, but we wouldn't have been able to stop him, either."

" _Very_ few things can stop a determined Planeswalker," Faragonda agreed. "Tecna, I can't apologize enough for the situation you've found yourself in."

I twitched as a shimmering dimensional barrier suddenly enclosed the school, and Faragonda's voice echoed through the sickeningly saccharine campus.

"All students and staff, please report to the assembly hall immediately. I repeat, all students and staff, please report to the assembly hall!"

"Well, that's rather odd," I grunted to the empty air as I lay back against the warm tiled roof some tower on the southern end of the Alfea Academy. "Hope it wasn't me." Sitting up, I tucked my flask back into one of my many pockets and twisted space so that I was standing on the wide paving stones in front of Alfea's front fountains, rather than up on the tower. A few students gave surprised looks, but I ignored them and walked into the assembly hall. My fellow professors all gave me various forms of hostile or disproving looks as I walked up to the section of chairs reserved for us.

"You smell like booze," Professor DuFour hissed at me. The fashionably dressed woman with long, steel gray hair taught etiquette and "poetic spell formation," a fucking useless class if ever there was one. The longer you spent casting, the more time your opponent had to fry your nerves with a lightning bolt, or disrupt your carefully planned ritual, or just gut you with a length of sharp steel.

"Because I've been drinking, _obviously_ ," I hissed back, lacing my voice with as much derision as I could. It wasn't like my alcoholism was some great secret, after all.

"It's eleven in the morning!" Wizgiz quietly objected from my right, clearly outraged.

" _Nooooo_ , is it? And here _I_ thought it was _twelve_ in the morning. Silly me, dropping a one like that," I sneered, feeling _really_ disinclined to put up with any shit today. Not after Tecna damn near gave me a heart attack. Nurse Ofelia looked over to give me a _look_ , no doubt taking in my sunken, bloodshot eyes and gaunt cheeks. She looked like she was about to say something when Faragonda stepped up to the podium to address the gathered students. She cleared her throat, using a small charm to easily project her voice throughout the suspiciously clean and airy marble hall.

"Students, I have grave news," the elderly headmistress reported. "We have just received word that Valtor has attacked Espero." A series of astonished gasps and worried murmurs rumbled through the hall as various students and even a few professors nervously began talking amongst themselves, expressing fears or condolences, wondering why Valtor would attack such a peaceful realm, or praying their families would be safe. I remained silent, but privately wondered much the same thing. What did Espero have that Valtor wanted? Well, unfortunately there was only one solution.

"DuFour, why _would_ Valtor attack Espero?" I asked the carmine clad professor, who frowned at me before answering my question.

"Well, I don't know. It's a peaceful realm. So peaceful it doesn't even have a police force. Nobody would ever even _think_ of disrupting such beautiful place. They were all scholars and artisans," she replied.

"Scholars?" I inquired suspiciously. Knowledge was power, _especially_ when it came to magic. Alternately, Valtor may have wished to acquire a powerful artifact of some form, but either way, this seemed like a good lead. It would probably be a dead end, though. Even the most brain-dead of sorcerers knew to cover his tracks.

"Yes, they have magnificent libraries," DuFour lamented.

"Uh-huh," I grunted. "And what, precisely, is _in_ those libraries? I'd bet there are plenty of secrets a would-be conqueror would happily kill for."

"But he could just pay a bit of money for full access," DuFour objected. "The sages would happily let him see whatever knowledge was available."

I stared at her, trying to process the sheer fucking _idiocy_ of what I'd just heard. This... this wasn't a tragedy anymore. It was natural selection.

"Okay, _ignoring_ how fucking stupid everything about that policy is, witnesses mean that we'd have somewhere to start looking. Now, there are no witnesses, and no circumstantial evidence to give us a lead," I explained slowly as Faragonda began talking about barriers and states of emergency.

"Oh? Is that how _you_ would do it?" DuFour hissed.

"No, I'd have payed, gotten the shitty tour, and then wiped the scholars' minds so nobody would even know to start looking in the first place," I explained with a bitter smile. "Assholes like Valtor are always too in love with their own chaos to ever truly be subtle. He's high on power and success, having gone completely unopposed for months now, thanks to whatever useless inbred fucks you people call cops." DuFour bristled, but declined to respond.

"Sweet shite, you are just in one fucking bleeder of a mood, aint'cha?" Wizgiz snapped at me.

"Yeah, Wiz, I am," I growled as the assembly started to disperse. "Because, as _usual_ , if you want something done right, you've gotta do it yourself." That's it Ryan, piss them off, push them away. Don't get attached, because you'll leave, or the trouble hounding you will eat them alive, just like it did all those poor bastards at the Seagate, or those dumb religious fucks praying to their angels right before Avacyn's flights put them to the torch. Just like you were going to kill Tecna earlier, just in case. At least I could trust the Gatewatch to get themselves out of the trouble they got into. The rest of these poor fairies? They were too dumb to even figure out that not everybody was some hyper-saccharine pacifistic hippie. I'd read their histories, read about the Ancient Witches and dark phoenixes and other bullshit that was only stopped in the nick of time by some do-gooder. The monsters were always _sealed_ , never killed. Trapped, imprisoned, guaranteed to be let loose to haunt the world again. Not this time. I'd _save_ them this time. _I'd save them all_.

"What does _that_ mean?" DuFour snapped as I stood up.

"It _means_ , DuFour, that I'm going to have to ask you to cover my class this afternoon," I replied. "The lesson plan is in my middle drawer. Now, if you'll excuse me, it seems I need to go dig through a torched city for clues... _again_." Let's hope all the charred corpses didn't rise up and sprout purple tentacles before trying to eat me this time.


	7. Chapter 7

**A Planeswalker's Recovery 7**

It wasn't until Ryan's ragged, weathered coat had disappeared around a nearby column that Professor DuFour realized he had muttered "again" after declaring that he was off to Espero to see if he could dig up some information on Valtor's plans. She frowned, staring at the spot where the miserable, obnoxious little wreck of a being had vanished. The fair skinned woman found that addition to his statement unsurprising. For all she couldn't _stand_ her exceedingly abrasive coworker, she understood that people tended not to become insomniac alcoholics without _some_ form of outside impetus, and judging by how unhealthy Ryan looked, she suspected whatever haunted him was particularly nasty. She'd picked up enough scuttlebutt, and heard from the students in his class, to know that he suffered from flashbacks and claimed have killed things so horrific most would go insane just from their presence. While she doubted _that_ claim, it was transparent that he was deeply troubled.

DuFour could feel some measure of pity for the man, but she did _so_ wish he would show a bit more decorum. She swept out of the auditorium along with the rest of the staff, doing her best to look untroubled by the news they'd received. It wouldn't do to make the students any more concerned than they undoubtedly already were, and besides, a proper fairy always strove to look her best no matter the situation. Still, it _was_ deeply disturbing how easily Valtor seemed to be moving around. The Company of Light's heyday was long past but she still remembered Valtor's _original_ reign of terror, as well as the dominion of the Ancestral Witches.

DuFour let out a quiet hiss of disapproval as she remembered the looks in the eyes of the people who had escaped the realms ruled by Valtor. They way they'd jumped at every noise. She'd thought those days were behind them, buried in the depths of history where they belonged.

Outside, Alfea's shimmering golden dome lent the air on odd, dawn-like quality that belied the seriousness of its presence, and DuFour wondered if perhaps Ryan didn't have a point. The Realms of Magic had an indisputable poetry to them, generally of the Epic variety, but they so _rarely_ had ways to mitigate the risks posed by would-be villains. Each Realm usually looked to its own defenses while the Magical Council's Peacekeepers intervened only when asked. A great evil would rise, and a company of heroes would emerge to defeat it, not unlike Bloom and her friends.

DuFour scowled at the idea of her students, however able they may be, taking on the likes of Valtor or Darkar. They were too young.

"Ugh, listen to me," she whispered to herself as she entered the familiar halls. "Gonda and her friends were a similar age, and they got into worse scrapes. Maybe I'm just getting old." The words were bitter, an admission of defeat. They felt like flimsy excuses for lying idle during the long period of peace the Realms of Magic had up til recently enjoyed. Frankly, it felt like _her_ failing, and that of her generation, and she privately admitted that she rather resented Ryan for throwing it in her face like he had. For throwing it in _all_ their faces. It was an ugly emotion for an ugly truth, and one DuFour did her best to put out of her mind as she stepped into Ryan's classroom.

As she stared around at the singed and scarred chairs, DuFour let out a little shriek of exasperation. The ceiling was worse, covered as it was in craters and scorch marks. And his _desk_! It was an absolute _mess_ of papers, scribbled notes, empty bottles, and a small stack of letters.

"Dear Lord Jaspar, thank you for your worthless feedback about shit you know nothing of. Be grateful I'm teaching your daughter how to actually defend herself rather than scream like a useless bimbo and pray a big strong man saves her you useless over protective prick. Kindly fuck off and die. Sincerely, Ryan. Oh dear sweet light, I hope he isn't actually sending these out to parents," DuFour gasped in horror as she read one of the letters. Afraid of what she was going to see, she picked up another.

"To Mr. and Mrs. Belleflower, you're fucking welcome I taught your spoiled bitch of a daughter something resembling a proper work ethic for the first time in her life. Perhaps if you'd been better parents she would have been smart enough to do the reading I'd assigned and saved herself a week of projectile vomiting. Kindly fuck off and die. Sincerely, Professor Ryan." DuFour picked up another letter as the horror began to mount. He _was_ answering angry letters from parents like this.

"Mr. Forshan, you are the inbred placenta of an aborted pig's fetus, and if you _ever_ suggest the only things women are good for are breeding and housework again, I'm going to use you as an in-class example of the various horrific effects chrono-spatial spells can have upon the human body, and then have my students practice breaking whatever remains of your vestigial lizard brain. Start sleeping with your fucking eyes open you piece of shit. See you soon, Ryan." DuFour paused. Forshan, why did that name sound familiar? After a moment, she recalled Ortensia Forshan, a timid, stressed girl who always sat at the back of her class and did her best not to attract attention. Quietly, DuFour sealed and addressed the envelope, resolving to make sure it was sent. It seemed that Ryan wasn't a _completely_ horrible professor after all.

Still, he clearly needed help keeping his desk clean, and she'd have to go digging through the mess to find whatever the madman thought passed for a lesson plan anyways, so perhaps she could help him out. Looking around to make sure nobody was watching, DuFour cracked her knuckles in a distinctly unladylike manner and got to work.

"He calls _this_ a lesson plan?" DuFour exclaimed, completely unsurprised by this point. His "lesson plan" was just a piece of paper with the words "they're too damned young, soft, naive. Teach them how to not die. Make sure they don't end up like the others. Maybe they'll even forgive you one day. Underneath was a list with several items crossed off. The latest one on the list just said, "violence." She _really_ hoped that wasn't as terrible as it sounded, though she suspected it absolutely was. This was a man who felt that poisoning the entire student body was an acceptable pop-quiz, after all. He was probably going to set some form of monster loose in class and bar the doors, the crazy bastard. Well, she refused to have any part of that, and made a mental note to raise her concerns with Faragonda later.

A bell rang, and DuFour looked up in surprise, realizing she'd spent so much time organizing everything that it was almost time for Ryan's class to start.

"Oh dear," Professor DuFour exclaimed. Glancing down at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand, she sighed. "Fine, he wants to teach them about violence? I'll teach them about the _consequences_ of violence." She sat down on the edge of Ryan's desk as the door slowly creaked open and a whispered argument ensued over whose turn it was to go first.

"Relax, students. Professor Ryan is taking a day off," DuFour called out. More whispering broke out, and she heard a panicked girl claim it was all a trick, that Ryan was just trying to lure them into a false sense of security. A round of surprisingly comprehensive disillusionment spells swiftly followed, along with various diagnostics for everything from invisible ink to toxic chemicals. DuFour actually had to counter a few of them, lest they undo the charms she used to keep her hair lustrous and her lipstick from smearing. A few conjured mirrors checked the room, and only then did her students feel safe to enter the room. They all checked their seats thoroughly before sitting down, and then gave her suspicious looks.

"Professor DuFour... is it _really_ you?" Harmony asked slowly.

"Yes, Harmony, 'tis truly I," DuFour sighed. "As I said ten minutes ago, Ryan is out for today. He left after the assembly to examine the site of Valtor's attack on Espero and, in light of the attack, I wish to discuss violence and its consequences. Let's start with a deceptively simple question; when is violence justified?"

"... When you're defending someone?" a girl in the back ventured timidly.

"Sure," - DuFour allowed - "but how do you define 'defense?' Is it solely reactive, or proactive? And what level of violence is acceptable?"

"Professor DuFour... I have a question," Aisha raised her hand. "Why was Valtor only _sealed_ in the first place. I did some reading and... well, he's a pretty terrible guy. Why... um, why didn't..."

"The Circle of Light just kill him?" DuFour finished the girl's sentence. "Technically, the correct answer is that he was not put to death because it is an irrevocable act that cannot be undone, and causes as much emotional harm to the killer as it does to the victim. The _real_ answer is because, up until a few months ago, the Omega Dimension was a one way trip, and we wanted him to suffer an eternity helplessness and humiliation for the lives he'd ruined," she responded frankly. "I suspect he won't get off so lightly this time."

"Yeah, if he pissed off Professor Ryan, he's probably on borrowed time," Amaryl agreed from the back of the classroom with a flip of her auburn hair. "He's not really a 'take prisoners' kind of guy."

"He's also an unhinged alcoholic, so we _probably_ shouldn't really look to him as an example of appropriate behavior," a long haired brunette named Francine called out. There was a general round of vigorous agreement from the class, and DuFour adjusted her broad red hat before continuing with the discussion, feeling reassured now that she knew her students were indeed seeing Ryan as a cautionary tale, rather than someone to be emulated.

"Alright, let's get back on topic, students. How do you define 'defense?'"


	8. Chapter 8

**A Planeswalker's Recovery 8**

"Just a stupid Earth girl, how could _you_ ever hope to equal _us_?"

"You? A fairy? As _if_!"

"You'll _never_ achieve Enchantix!"

"You thought a simple _peasant_ was worthy of hanging out with _royalty_? Of actually _marrying_ me? You were just my eye-candy, now get lost!"

"You're fucking useless, girl. Get out, ran away home, before you get people killed because you've never been able to hack it."

Bloom jolted awake with a stifled yelp as the last dregs of a nightmare circled around her groggy mind.

"Woah, you okay?" Aisha, whose lap Bloom was currently using as a pillow, asked assiduously. "You started looking really upset about a minute ago."

"Bad dream," Bloom explained as she sat up and ran a hand through her tumbling copper locks. Her neck complained a bit from her odd sleeping position, and her butt was numb. The Red Fountain airship was fine for moving around, but just like the cars back home it wasn't great for long periods of time. "It's just... y'know, meeting Sky's parents, and stuff. Like, you and Stella being princesses was weird enough to adjust to, but..." Bloom quietly explained... or so she thought.

"Relax Bloom, they're going to love you," Sky reassured her as he spun around in his seat. The blonde haired young man gave her one of his signature goofy smiles, and Bloom sighed. She probably _was_ just freaking out for no reason. She'd been to balls before, and she'd lasted this long in Professor Ryan's class. Compared to _him_ , Sky's parents wouldn't be a problem. Her nerves were just messing with her. Stupid nerves.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she stretched. "Anyways, how long until we get there?"

"We're just about to land, actually," Tecna's boyfriend Timmy replied from his spot in the pilot's seat.

"Yiiiiii, I can. Not. _Wait_ ," Stella squealed. "This is going to be _sooo_ much fun, right Brandon?"

"Of course babe," Brandon replied as he squeezed his girlfriend's shoulders.

"Umm... isn't your dad and..." Aisha started to ask, only to have Stella interrupt her with a raised finger.

"Not a word, Aisha. That _bitch_ is _not_ going to ruin this for me. I'm going to give daddy a great big hug, and have fun with you girls for the rest of the night," Stella declared a touch more loudly than necessary.

"Right, but remember what Professor Ryan says about safety?" Aisha pressed.

"Pssh, paranoia is more like it," Stella sighed. "But yeah, you've got a point. I wouldn't put it past Cassandra and Chimera to try something, the _bitches_. But tonight's not about them, it's about Sky introducing Bloom as his girlfriend." She rallied hard, visibly brightening up at the thought of the massive party. It was the thousandth year of Eraklyon's unification, and from what Sky had said, the realm was going all out. Fireworks were already flashing sparkling across the twilight sky as the Red Fountain airship approached the landing pad. Bloom tried not to think about how _big_ it all was as Stella chattered on about the nobles, the wildly famous orchestra, the cake that was apparently the size of a house, and the press. _Especially_ the press.

"And we're here!" Timmy called out as he set the large airship down with nary a bump.

"Alright, we're not expected to make an appearance for another two hours," Sky announced as the airship's doors hissed open. "Follow Aurea, she'll make sure you girls have no trouble getting ready." He waved at a slender, matronly woman in a close cut and stupendously fashionable blue suit, who cheerfully waved back.

Bloom felt, as her father would have put it, "like a thousand bucks" as she and her friends walked up to the party where the various guests were already busy mingling and marveling at the fireworks, which had been enchanted to play out fanciful scenes from Eraklyon legends and history. She saw a few heads turn as she walked by in her silky pastel pink and blue dress, which was really the sort of confidence booster she needed. Up on the castle steps, the announcer guy, whose official title she _still_ failed to remember despite Stella's lessons, began calling out the names of the various kings and queens of the Magic Realm's worlds.

"King Radius, Queen Cassandra, and Princess Chimera," the guy announced, and she heard Stella hiss furiously.

"I still can't _believe_ they gave my title to that worthless, talentless..."

"Stel, he's under a spell. Just breathe, alright? You've been doing your research, haven't you?" Bloom quietly muttered to her friend, who looked like she was about to march up the steps and try out a few of Ryan's tricks.

"Yes, but I don't know what spell it is, so it's mostly just conjecture at this point," Stella grumbled.

"Plus, if you attacked them now there'd be tons of witnesses," Tecna pointed out.

"Ugh, _fine_ ," Stella huffed furiously as she tried to murder her supposed step-mother and sister with her glare. "One day though, _one day_ , I am absolutely going to introduce them to what I've learned in Ryan's class."

"King Erendor, Queen Samara, and Prince Sky, of Eraklyon!" the announcer guy bellowed enthusiastically as Sky descended the steps beside his parents, looking particularly dashing in his white tuxedo and periwinkle cape.

"Hey gals, how are you?" Brandon asked as he and Timmy sidled up to the group, looking strapping in their Red Fountain dress blues.

"Trying to convince Stella not to pick a fight with her wicked step-mother," Tecna replied easily. "She wanted to dip Professor Ryan's bag of tricks." Tecna shuddered, and Bloom couldn't help but feel a wave of fear herself.

"I think I should have a _talk_ with that guy," Brandon growled. "There's no way a professor can get away with that!"

"Brandon, sweetie, _no_ ," Stella exclaimed, her personal troubles immediately forgotten. "He would eat you alive."

"She's not kidding," Aisha continued where Stella left off. "He's... well, a barely sane alcoholic _wreck_ , but a _dangerous_ one. As in, I _personally_ have seen him erase a curse that stumped _Faragonda_ in three minutes, with no preparation, _from reality_."

"And that... _ray_ that reduced a whole clearing to dusty chalk in seconds," Flora sniffled. "Those poor trees. Those poor _animals_."

"Or the part where he routinely poisons the entire school to teach us proper paranoia," Bloom continued. "That said, given Cassandra and Chimera's presence, we _will_ be checking everyone's food and drinks."

"The guy is fucked in the head," Tecna quietly interjected. "And... and he _can_ back up all of his threats. Without a doubt. I don't think even _Valtor_ could take him, if Ryan brought his A game."

"Bullshit," Brandon scoffed.

"It's _really_ not," Tecna replied. "Bloom, boyfriend, six o'clock."

Bloom spun around eagerly as Sky walked up to her, smiling nervously.

"Bloom, would you honor me with this first dance?" Sky asked, holding up his hand.

"Oh Sky, I'd be _delighted_ to." Bloom thought she'd pulled that off pretty well, considering she was positively quivering with excitement. She was a fairy dancing with a magical prince. This was like mainlining pure, uncut childhood dreams right here. She took Sky's hand and let him guide her out onto the empty dance floor as the spotlights lit the night and the orchestra began to play.

All too soon, the dance finished, and Sky left to talk to his parents about giving his speech as the other nobles flooded onto the dance floor.

"Did I do okay?" Bloom asked nervously, as Stella and Musa raced over to her.

"Better than okay," Musa exclaimed reassuringly.

"You _nailed_ it," Stella exclaimed. "It's like you've been a princess your whole life!"

"You were great," Flora agreed.

"Hey gals, you remember my parents?" Aisha exclaimed as she walked up, her father and mother in tow.

"It's lovely to see you again," Aisha's mother greeted them warmly.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, my son Sky has an important announcement," King Erendor announced as he gestured to Sky, who stepped forwards.

"Are you nervous?" Flora whispered to Bloom, who just nodded, not trusting herself to speak. This was it, the big moment. She was so nervous she felt like she wanted to vomit.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming," Sky began. "I'd like to introduce you all to a very important person. The most wonderful girl I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and, in my opinion, the most beautiful woman in the Magic Dimension..."

"Wow, he's _really_ got it bad for you," Brandon remarked.

"Diaspro!" Sky proclaimed.

Bloom blinked once, then twice, trying to process what had just happened. He... what? Diaspro? What? It... everything was going wrong. This was all wrong. She could feel her world crumbling out from under her.

"W-what?" she squeaked, barely more than a whisper. He... Sky had broken up with Diaspro. _Vigorously_ , at that, two years ago. This... maybe it _hadn't_ been just nightmare at all! Back on the airship, she'd dreamed that Sky claimed she was just a fling. _Was she_? Was that all she was?

"Fuck it, that's it," Stella snarled, but Flora and Musa quickly grabbed her.

"Hold on, both of you. _Think_. There's something wrong here," Tecna hissed as Diaspro, that superficial backstabbing blonde _sociopath_ swanned up the steps to cuddle up to Sky, smiling like the hideous, overly made up _parasite_ she was.

"Thank you all so _much_." Her voice was like a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards.

"Yeah... this isn't Sky," Brandon agreed. "We've been buddies since we were kids, and he was on cloud nine about introducing you. If he wasn't positive, he wouldn't have offered in the first place."

"First my daddy and Cassandra, now Sky and Diaspro," Stella muttered darkly. "I'm starting to see a pattern here."

"Ryan was _right_ ," Bloom gasped, trying to blink away tears as Diaspro leaned over and whispered something in Sky's ear.

"Guards, seize them!" Sky bellowed, pointing... right... at... her? "Those girls are witches who've come to attack Eraklyon!"

"Wait, son, what's going on?" King Erendor asked, clearly just as confused as everyone else.

"What... what? Sky?" Bloom stammered, unable to process what was happening.

"Yeah, there's _definitely_ something fuck-y going on," Brandon muttered.

"We'd better book it _before_ we're caught, this time," Stella exclaimed, pulling Bloom into a run as guards piled into the crowd and the nobles began panicking.

"Right, you girls get out of here, we'll figure out what's up with Sky," Timmy exclaimed.

They took off, the purple armored guards hot on their heels.

"Stop, or else!" a guard hollered.

"Or else _what_?" Musa hollered back as they turned a corner and hauled ass down the outside of an expansive hedge maze. A moment later, red bolts of magic began zipping past their heads and scorching the grass at their feet.

" _Dammit Musa_!" Stella snapped.

"Quick, in here. These hedges are friendly," Flora exclaimed, pulling a sharp left into the flowery hedge maze. The tan, sandy haired girl led them through a series of incomprehensible twists and turns as the hedge maze started to rearrange itself behind them. Despite that, the guards were still close enough to occasionally take pot shots.

"How are they still on us?" Aisha demanded. "Shit! This dress was _fucking expensive_!" she snarled as an energy bolt burned a hole through the gauzy fabric, just barely missing her thigh. "Shooting at a princess of an allied nation? _I'll have their ballsacks for coin purses_!"

"What, you thought outrunning professional soldiers was going to be _easy_?" Tecna pointed out. A blast of magic tore past her ear and she swore. "Shit! Fliers, they have fliers!"

"Girls, remember how Professor Palladium showed us how to navigate unknown environments using our Winx forms?" Bloom called out, having finally kicked her brain into gear. She gave herself a mental kick for only remembering this _after_ the spells had started flying. A magical blast tore past her head and burned a hole in the hedgerows.

"No time!" Stella yelped.

"Don't hurt the plants!" Flora yelled at the soldiers. It was really more like an earnest entreaty, really, but for Flora it counted, as did the thick, thorn covered vines the erupted from the ground, barring the guards' way.

Soon, Flora navigated the way out of the maze, and they slowed down to catch their breath.

"Ugh, hah, I should probably step up my cardio," Musa gasped weakly, her previously perfectly coiffed blue hair now sticking to her sweaty forehead.

"Professor Ryan can _never_ hear about this," Tecna wheezed. "It'll only encourage him. Yipe!" A scintillating arrow blew a hole in the hedge right next to her face.

"Sky!" Bloom cried, seeing her ensorcelled boyfriend aiming his signature bow at her, backed by dozens of guards.

"I don't know how you witches know my name, but I won't tolerate an attack like this!" Sky roared, apparently forgetting that not only had they not attacked anyone, they'd arrived with him. Bloom was about to point this out, when the blonde prince bellowed, "open fire!"

"I got this!" Aisha declared triumphantly as light spiraled around her. Four pairs of shimmering dragonfly wings unfurled from her shoulder blades as the dark skinned girl threw up a broad magenta barrier. Blasts of magic ricocheted back towards the guards, taking out a few who didn't duck fast enough.

"Oops... uh, that was just supposed to disperse attacks," Aisha muttered lamely. "Seems my Enchantix form scales up spells appropriately."

"Cool, now _leg it_!" Stella called out.

"Hold up! Sky, please, I _know_ our love is stronger than whatever spell you're under!" Bloom pleaded. To her surprise and delight, she saw Sky's beautiful gray eyes clear for a moment as he stumbled slightly his brow furrowing in concentration. Then just as suddenly as it had begun, it passed and his handsome, chiseled face twisted back into a rictus of rage.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull, _witch_ , but your spell won't work on me!"

Bloom turned away, tears in her eyes, and resumed her flight as Sky bellowed after her, "this isn't over, you hear me!"


End file.
